


Wasted Away (for you to come and pick me up)

by louisisaflower_harryishisthorns



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst??, Coming Out, Fanfiction, M/M, Multi, harry cries a lot, kinda ia, like a lot, louis is confused and angry, mentions of vomiting and other "disgusting" stuff, niall is captain, that's all for now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:53:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21755593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louisisaflower_harryishisthorns/pseuds/louisisaflower_harryishisthorns
Summary: At this bar, Harry's a part-time server and Louis just began to sing. It has been three years since Louis applied. Harry doesn’t know what he is. He’s just a confused guy going in this phase just a year or ten too late. And now he’s going to go insane. A drunk, drunk insane man.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan/Original Characters, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Kudos: 5





	1. Sad-Faced, Confused Frog

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS WORK IS PURELY BASED OUT OF THE AUTHOR'S IMAGINATION, ANY NAMES, PLACES OR OCCURRENCE THAT MAY BE A PART OF THE REAL WORLD ARE MERELY COINCIDENCE.

“Heeyyyy…”

Dusty just stared. Her tail is flicking back and forth and her ears are perked up. But she’s got on this bored look that’s driving Harry crazy. It was as if she was just dragged from her inner peace, just like Kung Fu Panda, and was brought there to force her to listen to him. Unnerving, is what it is. 

Her eyes, even if they’re just a shade of those azures, that just had to be blue doesn’t help one bit.

“Dustyyyy…” he whined, all traces of his stupid supposed ‘manliness’ now all gone. “Why’re you lookin’ at me like that? I feel so-” -hiccup- “-feel so fucking offended, can’t you-” -hiccup- “-at least act like ya-” -hiccup- “-like talkin’ t’me?” So apparently, drunk Harry is Irish. Huh.

The cat’s brow line scrunched up. It was really as if she understands. 

Harry’s crazy.

“M’know, okay? It’s all goin’ t’pass-” -hiccup- “-’s all gon’ be just fine, yeah-” he hiccuped again.

Harry’s pissed. 

Drunk. 

Pissed drunk. 

And he knows. The bottle of vodka that’s dangling on his right hand is just about to run out of liquid. His body feels sore, every single muscle aching. And he’s just conscious enough to know that his left cheek was bruised from the big man’s fist a few hours before this. At the bar. _That fucking bar._

Stupid Harry. Stupid.

“He-he’s not comin’ back, Duusty.” 

He hiccuped. 

Then suddenly he can speak straight.

“He’s not coming back… D-dusty,” well maybe not that straight, “He’s not coming back, Dusty, why…? Why’s he not coming back?” He looked down, seeing his thighs shaking inside the confinement of his dark blue trousers, his dirty shoes scraping what used to be a shiny floor he and Loui- never mind. He looked back up to the cat, “Dusty, he’s not coming back! I should be out dancing, huh? I’s all been prob-problems when he was here, right, Dusty? Right?!” 

Yes, that’s definitely right. It all has been problems since Louis came barging in to his life, demanding space and comfort. It has definitely not been as if a light bulb- no, the sun has finally shone on Harry’s life.

Airhead.

No.

His words definitely didn’t make Harry a puddle of pink goo.

Stupid.

Harry definitely doesn’t go all soft when Louis goes skipping in his kitchen with this smile that has been all but reserved for his eyes only, demanding he was to be served all the good things in the world without really actually talking.

That’s just bullshit.

And he definitely didn’t fix Harry’s life only for Harry to go and break it for himself. Again.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Suddenly, Dusty was by his left hand, meowing as she glided trough his fingers. It was then, when he looked down that he realized that there were wet spots on the floor. 

And then he felt his eyes were stinging. Warm, big globs of tears are spilling from them.

And then it’s just all that he can do to try and stop the sobs from coming.

How the fuck did it ever come to this?

It all has been building up for a long time. Three years since he first saw the bluest of blue, sparkliest of sparkly, shiny eyes. Three years since that smile went and planted those insects inside his stomach. Three years since he first saw that soft look Louis always seemed to have whenever he’ll so much as glance at Harry. 

Or maybe he didn’t have all that, maybe it was all only the way his eyes see it because if he actually had them he wouldn’t be here.

Or maybe he actually did have those, maybe he was just this noob asshole who doesn’t know this word called honesty. Doesn’t know how to be grateful. 

Doesn’t know how to be a fucking man because if he did know how he wouldn’t be here, he wouldn’t feel this nausea whenever he remembers the still raw taste of Louis’ lips on his from that night at the bar. _That fucking bar._ He wouldn’t feel as if the air is being sucked out of his lungs in every unsuccessful attempt at inhaling. 

Dumb, Harry.

Dumb, dumb, dumb.

If he knew how to act he wouldn’t be back here again, pissed drunk and dead out of his life sitting in the corner of his room where whenever he’s to look up, he’ll see Louis. 

He’ll see Louis lying out on his bed with this soft, pleased expression. Talking about how much he loves Harry’s bed, how good it smells.

He’ll see Louis sitting on his couch near the window and staring out of it whenever he remembers Jay.

He’ll see Louis on the floor while Harry’s on the bed, the smaller guy talking about his siblings back home and how he’s going to take Harry to them on Louis’ birthday.

The wrack of sob that followed these thoughts was so strong. It seemed to come from somewhere deep in his stomach, squelching his lungs as it went to finally come out of his throat to disturb the resting atoms lying in the air. It sounded so loud that even Dusty flinched.

With the fear of Dusty also bailing out on him, he scooped her in his hands and laid her on his arms. “He’s,” he whimpered. “ He’s not going to come back, Dusty.” The cat’s following mewl also sounded wrecked on his ears, it was like Dusty was also crying with him, and it definitely did-does break him. His sobs are now continuous, crying while trying to comfort the cat, trying his best to say, “Shh.. Dusty, he still l-loves you”-hiccup- “don’t you worry.” 

Huh.

His heart skipped a beat, “It’s just me he won’t anymore,” he stared the cat in the eye, Dusty’s orbs swirling in his mind and making him see Louis’ instead. 

Harry was not even sure if Louis did have those feelings for Harry like, like _that_. It’s just all he can do to assume to at least have something positive in his mind. Which actually also brings negative thoughts because of what he’s done.

Harry’s _so_ stupid.

With his lungs heaving and his mind reeling, he stood up, Dusty in his arms, wobbly feet being forced to carry him to the bed. He sat on a corner of the bed then placed Dusty in a pillow on the other side of the bed. There are so many thoughts running in his mind. So many. With that as his last one, he took the last swig of his bottle, his throat so numb he didn’t even feel the burn. It’s just enough, though, the circling alcohol in his bloodstream enough to make him forget. 

He kissed the neck of the bottle before throwing it across the wall. “Thanks, Vod.” 

He smiled before dropping his body to bed. It’s comfortable. Given it makes him remember the sapphire-eyed man but at least it’s comfortable. And yeah, he might have cried himself to sleep then. Yeah, he might have dreamed of something akin to feathery hair, soft blue eyes, cheekbones, the smell of strawberries, sandalwood and cigarettes but, hey, it’s a comfortable bed.

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me if i did okay, pleasee??? this is my first work ever and i don't know if it's any good. love you all. oh, and STREAM FINE LINE AND LP1 AND PALLOM AND DLIBYH!!


	2. Crazy, Crazy Frog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> captain nialllllllll!!!!!!!!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it has been a while and i don't know if anyone is actually waiting for me to update but, here it is!! took me three months to write a chapter, no one told me it'll be this hard!! so, enjoy, i guess?? *heartheart*

Harry woke up to the sound of something crashing. The sunlight’s already streaming trough his windows, and in the current fog of his mind, he wonders why he didn’t close the blinds the night before. Another crash sounded from somewhere on the house and suddenly he remembers again. Louis’ gone. And it’s been almost a month. And it was the 28th yesterday. And he went to that bar again, he was drunk, and he didn’t get to close the blinds because he’s been way too busy talking to Daisy.

Daisy.

Fuck, Daisy must be so hungry and is probably the one causing all the noise.

Noise. 

Bloody hell, the noise. 

He’s mind suddenly went up another notch and made him remember that he _is_ drunk and he finished a whole bottle of vodka after drinking more than a few pints of beer. Which, yeah, he’s probably got the worst hangover of his life right now. Well, actually, he had that last week, when he realized that Louis _is_ not coming back.. _Jesus Christ, he’s head hurts, and, ugh.._

“Ugh..”

Oh. And his throat hurts. Scratchy. Really scratchy, and he feels like he swallowed several grams of ground-up gravelly sand. He hasn’t even stood up yet. And he’s sure that he’ll most likely just sway his way trough if he did. But, Dusty.

Harry hasn’t fed her since the morning of yesterday when he went to check on that bar again. _Fuck_. And he seriously needs to get up if he wants to at least have a companion in his life for longer than three years. So he did.

He stood up. He’s limbs were a bit uncooperative from lack of use and sleep and he’s knees are wobblier than jello so he had to hold on to his head board for a little while before actually making a step. Which he probably shouldn’t have took because as soon as he did, he’s vision swayed to a thousand hundred holograms and morphed to another million ones. 

Fortunately, he still hasn’t let go of the headboard and avoided tripping over himself. So he tried again, stayed unmoving for a few moments and stepped forward. But fate somehow really hates him and he jumped when he felt something piercing his toe. 

He looked down and saw that it was a small shard of a clear glass. He almost wondered where the hell it came from until he looked around the room and saw that it was actually filled with several pieces of glass shards and he remembered how he threw the poor bottle of vodka to his wall. And…

What a way to start a morning.

\---

So he sat down again and got the shard of glass out of his toe, which luckily wasn’t too big or too small to be too hard to put out. He cut a piece of cloth from his t-shirt and settled on wiping out the few drops of blood that escaped when the glass got out. He looked up and thought how sad his life has become but no time for that, Dusty needed to be fed.

As he thought about that, another pair of clangs sounded inside the house that made Harry jump. Harry stood up and looked around his room and thought that a plan is a must have right now if he wants to get trough feeding Dusty. 

He looked down the floor and started to imagine a bee line trail that doesn’t have any more glass shards for him to step into then started taking off on small, tip-toed steps. They were not graceful in any manner, and he still managed to bump his lower hand on the corner of the door, but then he was free of the mess in his room, and, well, _thank the Almighty Father!_

That’s step one done. Now he just have to go the kitchen as carefully as possible. He nodded with a little bit too much enthusiast on that thought and winced at the typhoon the action caused to his mind. Thankfully, Harry reached the kitchen with no more than three bumps on his thighs, given that his eyes are positively spinning with every step he took. 

He fully expected to have every pot in the kitchen to be all over the floor, what with all the noise he heard in the last few minutes. He also expected to have Dusty running over to him to rub off herself on his ankles and lower legs to as a way of asking for food. What he didn’t expect is a very blond Niall Horan to be clanging up pots and ladles, his shoulders slouched and his head unmoving, and if he didn’t smell it before, he definitely does smell the lovely aroma of bacon and sausages and eggs.

“When the fuck did you bleach your hair?” he asked.

Niall turned out to be way too focused on what he’s cooking and the next thing Harry knows is that there was a spatula sailing through the air, heading straight for his head and an “AHHHHH!!” from a screeching Niall. Harry’s head springed for a few times until it just settled on hanging down, his hands clutching his head for dear life.

“Ow, Niall, what the fuck?!”

Can we just emphasize that Harry _does_ have a hangover?!

Niall’s still breathing heavily when Harry turned his eyes to him from the floor. Harry was positively seeing yellow stars in front of his eyes when Niall’s eyes widened in recognition and said, “Harry! Mate! Shit, ‘ya scared tha’ life out of me, lad!”

Harry glared at Niall. Not only did he probably gave him another lasting bruise but he was also being loud. _Way_ too fucking loud so early in the morning. Well, maybe not so early, but still! Is his hangover not obvious enough?! 

Rubbing his throbbing head, Harry walked towards the table to sit on a chair, “Can you please shut up, Niall? My brain if fucking _pulsing_ , and it isn’t me who creeped up on someone’s house, you bloody lad.”

Niall stared at Harry’s baggy eyes for a moment before he turned around to face the stove, “I think I should say, sorry, mate, I really do, but I won’t.”

Harry scoffed, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now, since you already seem to be well acquainted with my pan, won’t you be nice and give me some food?”

Niall turned hummed and turned back around with two full plates. “Who did you think I cooked this for?”

Harry settled in when Niall placed a plate in front of him. Niall was considerate enough to put in a table knife and fork in the plate but not enough to actually set the table. But honestly? Harry would take in any food in any circumstances with the way his stomach was gurgling right then. 

“Harry.” Niall called. And…

Tsk. 

Harry continued on munching on the food. It was _very_ tasty.

“Harry.” Niall called again.

The knife and fork clashing together to cut up a sausage is _so very_ interesting, isn’t it?

“Harry!”

Fuck it.

Harry let go of the utensils and looked at Niall trough his thick lashes, slumping his shoulders and trying to appear smaller. It would seem really scary, what with the dark eye bags and all but his puppy eyes have given him a fair amount of escapes. “Niall, please, I know, just-- let me finish eating first?”

Niall looked at Harry, his expression unreadable. Harry stayed with his puppy-eyes demeanor. Niall was a good lad, good friend, he was caring and loving and charming and loud, really bloody _loud_. But that caring means he also demands to know everything that’s happening in all his friend’s lives just so he could either laugh out loud, cry with them or try to help with everything he can. 

Niall’s left eye twitched a little bit, Harry was not letting up. He was going to stall this conversation with everything he can. He knew it was going to come and it will be easier to get it over with but his mind is still running in circles and his head still feels like it’s being hammered. Finally, _finally_ , Niall sighed, “Okay, Harold.”

“Don’t call me Harol-”

“Shut it. Eat fast so you can talk. You’re bein’ totally out of it, man, and you ain’t getting out of this conversation.” Niall signed the _‘I’m watching you’_ sign to Harry and started to munch his food.

Harry made it a mission to, for as long as he can, prolong his time at the table. Playing with the bacon, cutting it up and shoving it to his mouth one by one with as less vigor as he can manage with his rumbling stomach, mixing the other bits with the other bits, then cracking the perfectly cooked egg yolk. He then mixed them up together, which, _ugh_.

Harry looked up to Niall to find him already staring at him with obvious irritation in his eyes. “What?” Harry asked.

Niall didn’t answer, he picked up his fork again to shove the sausage to his mouth, all the while still staring at Harry.

Harry looked back down to his food, and, _okay_ …

He picked up his fork and scooped up some of the mixed up food. He looked at Niall again who now have a challenging looked on his eyes. Harry slowly lifted the fork up, his nose twitching, while staring at Niall. He looked down at the fork and visibly cringed. He closed his eyes, _okay, it’s okay, he can do this, just don’t look at food_. He opened his mouth when he felt the tip of the fork nudging his lips. 

He tried to, okay? He really, _really_ tried to. But the moment the sticky mess landed on his tongue, his trachea closed up and he coughed and in some twisted way, he accidentally pushed the fork up his mouth, making him hurl and choke all over his plate. He was lucky he didn’t throw up.

As soon as he gained control over his hand again, he removed the spoon out of his mouth and stood up to grab a glass and fill it with the tap. He drank way to fast and ended up spluttering all over the sink. He tried to breathe calmly again, _inhale, exhale_ … But as he inhaled the third time, he felt a churning in his stomach, and… Why the hell didn’t he drink water before going to sleep?!

By now he’s retching, gagging all over himself. When he thought it was all out he tried inhaling again but as he exhaled, another round of vomit came crashing trough his throat, some even going out trough his nose. He didn’t notice Niall coming up behind him until there were heavy hands patting his back way too harshly. But at that moment, all he could care about was the scratchy feeling in his throat, the way too fast beating of his heart, and the new sets of pounding in his head. 

He reached around to hold onto Niall’s wrist and looked at him with pleading eyes. He himself is not sure of what he’s asking for but Niall seem to understand, and within a few seconds there’s a glass half full of water in his hands and he’s holding the tip up to Harry’s mouth. “Slowly this time Haz, slowly.”

Niall rubbed his hands on Harry’s hunched back, then, when Harry’s breathing slowed down, he tipped the glass a bit for him to sip at. 

Now, don’t get Harry wrong. He was extremely, _extremely_ grateful to have a friend like Niall, but Harry’s just straight up _pathetic_ isn’t he?

The first sip went alright, going straight to his stomach. The second also did. Just like the third one. 

First he let the light walk away from his life, now he’s throwing up in front of his best friend, looking much like the strayed dog that he is. All wet and fucked up with his hair sticking up on all the wrong places, the only thing that would be needed to complete the get up was an actual dirty street for him to lie on. 

The fourth one didn’t do as well as the last three did as he went and just sobbed. Without actual tears in his eyes, he sobbed. Then Niall pulled the glass away from Harry, placed it on the sink and turned back around to face him. He placed both of his hands on Harry’s arms then just stared. Harry let out yet another dry sob.

Harry didn’t know what Niall’s eyes held this time as he didn’t dare to look up. But he could only imagine a look full of pity, sympathy and humane look because the minute his eyes brimmed with unshed tears and released another heart-deep sob, he was forced into the Irish man’s chest.

Harry was now full on sobbing and it was funny because before these past few days, he wouldn’t shed tears for someone dying. Now, he was crying rivers, pathetically sobbing over his best friend’s chest. He was such a fucking crybaby.

Niall didn’t say a word just held Harry close while he cried, not really knowing what to say as he’s never been in the man’s position. He just showed that he sympathized with his thumb rubbing circles on Harry’s shoulders, just showed that he cared by scratching his curls lightly.

They stayed like that until Harry’s sobs slowed and his breathing slowed down a bit, it was then that Niall escorted him to a couch. Harry’s arms quickly wrapped around Niall’s torso when they sat, burying his face into his friend’s chest, inhaling his cologne and trying to calm down. “Oh, Harry,” Niall said, “you can be a little baby when you want to, huh?”

Harry slapped Niall’s chest lightly, “Shut up, you’re lucky I am still hugging you even when you stink.” He scrunched up his nose for effect. 

Niall scoffed, “Excuse you, I spent two hours under the shower scrubbing my arms and legs and armpits-” “-among other things-” “-with soap and spreading lotion evenly on my very manly body.” 

Harry mushed his face on Niall’s chest, his clothes muffling Harry’s lithe ‘shut up’.

\---

It’s now nearing the time of the day where everyone’s supposed to get ready for dinner. Harry’s finally sober. For now.

Niall didn’t leave Harry’s house except for the time when he went to buy a whole peach pie on the store that Harry liked but didn’t do deliveries for lunch. Are you asking yourself ‘pie for lunch?’ right now? Harry’s answer is yes, it is natural to crave it at the time of the day. 

Now they’re sat again on Harry’s couch, Netflix is playing a random movie that the app suggested. Niall has a couple of chocolates, nuts and berries in his mouth, chewing loudly. And Harry has been anxiously watching him. He knows Niall is just waiting for him to speak. But--

Niall picked another handful of nuts and threw the at his mouth. 

Sigh.

“I kissed him.”

Niall coughed, some of the chewed nuts flying out of his mouth. He looked at Harry for a few seconds then looked away, quickly composing himself and stared at the television, continuing his loud chewing, “Mhm..”

Harry took it as a permission to continue. 

“He kissed back.” Niall choked again, but no food came out of his mouth this time. So that’s okay… “But I was drunk, and I, my head was spinning and-and, you know how I get when I’m drunk--Fuck it.”

He looked at Niall who was now back to his loud chewing and he was just staring straight at the television. But Harry knew that he was listening. He was just looking at one space of the appliance, whereas if he was actually watching, his eyes would fly around in each of the television’s edges to try and catch everything he can of the movie. 

“I-I, I panicked when he responded and pushed him away. And, but--it felt good. So good to finally kiss him but- it was strange, Niall, and I felt--I was scared. Because, because it felt _too _good. And I’m still scared because I have never felt that way with anyone and--and I just, I’m scared that if I went on with it that I would fall fast and I don’t think I want that. I want to figure this out Niall, what the fuck do I do?”__

__Niall didn’t look away from the television, “Why did he go?”_ _

__Harry was startled, he didn’t want to say that out loud. “What?”_ _

__“You heard me, why did he go?”_ _

__Niall was now looking at him, staring him dead at the eyes. But not with filth or judgement or any of that, he was looking at Harry as if he was trying to asses him. Niall knows he can be a stupid fucktard at times so he’s probably trying to figure out if Harry made another big move without using his brain. Which, yeah, fuck it, “I might have said bad… things?”_ _

__Niall didn’t look surprised. So, Harry was right, “What things?” Niall asked._ _

__“I- he, fuck, I might have called him a ‘man whore’.”_ _

__…_ _

__“And a faggot.”_ _

__Niall’s eyes couldn’t have gone much like Harry’s mom’s saucers at this moment, “Excuse me, what?”_ _

__Harry sighed, “You heard me.”_ _

___“Harry Styles, what the fuck?”_  
\---  
After the cringe worthy conversation, Niall left before darkness crept up the skies, but not before giving Harry a good punch on the face. They’re good, trust me, they are. But Harry is not. 

__Right after Niall left, he also went out and walked to the bar. He knows it’s stupid, it’s a miracle his name isn’t black listed, but he needs a drink and that bar just happened to be the closest one from the house. Then he got drunk. Again._ _

__The next day is to the same setting again, just without Niall._ _

__He needs to feed Dusty._ _


End file.
